


Secrets of the Philosopher's Stone

by Cleo_Calliope



Series: Breaking Fate [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Growing Up, M/M, Romance, Slytherin Harry, Written before Book 5
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:59:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1514690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cleo_Calliope/pseuds/Cleo_Calliope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Harry hadn't met Ron on the train to Hogwarts?  What if he'd met someone else?  And what if his sorting had happened differently as a result?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, this story has been under construction for more than ten years. It has not been written in any kind of systematic way and therefore there are bits of this, that, and everything else all over my harddrive.
> 
> *  
>  **Notes on Canon**  
> 
> 
> Obviously, this is an AU (alternate universe) story and so I can do what I damn well please. What's important for understanding many of my diversions from canon is that I began this story not long after the publication of the fourth book. So, this was before we learned various things about the Black family tree and so on. I've adapted my universe to fit in with the canon-verse when and where I could. Where there were unreconcilable differences, however, my universe took presidence. So, you'll find a few things a little odd from time to time. By and large though, I've tried to stay within the Potter-verse as it had been presented to us in the first four books of the series - with my own spin on it, of course. Explanations - including my version of the Black Family Tree - will be presented when necessary.
> 
> Thanks go to several people for their help in listening to me ramble about it, giving their ideas, and being a test audience over the years; especially [Lois](http://fanged-geranium.livejournal.com/), [Storm_Seller](http://storm-seller.livejournal.com/), and [Dusk](http://elfbystarlight.livejournal.com/). 
> 
> While this has been read over many times by various people at various points in its construction it has not been betaed in its final form. Any errors are mine. Cookies will be given to those who let me know about them so they can be fixed.

Harry's ticket remained clutched tightly in his hand through most of the journey to King's Cross station that morning.  His cousin Dudley poked and kicked him often from the seat next to him and a few comments were pointedly _not_ directed back at him from the front seat where his aunt and uncle sat.  But Harry was only barely aware of any of it.

He was going somewhere.  For the first time in his life he was actually _going_ somewhere.  Something was happening to _him_.

Harry Potter was a small, skinny boy of 11 years, with messy black hair and green eyes behind wire rim glasses perpetually held together with Sellotape.  He was shy and quiet, kept to himself, didn't cause trouble  –  at least not on purpose  –  and was, for the most part, entirely unremarkable.  Things _didn't_ happen to Harry.  The only special thing about him was a thin scare on his forehead that looked rather like a bolt of lighting.  He'd always been told that he'd received this in the car crash that had killed his parents when he was little more than a year old.  He'd always rather liked the scar simply because it _was_ the only unusual thing about him, the only special thing.

True, strange things seemed to happen _around_ him; odd things that left him as confused as anyone else.  But that wasn't the same thing.  It was just that things would occur where he was for no particular reason.  He didn't make them happen, they just... happened and that was all.

Or so he'd thought.

He'd always known somewhere deep inside that he was different.  How could he not?  Most kids didn't see their teacher's hair suddenly turn blue while she was yelling at them or end up on the roof of the school when they were only trying to jump behind some bushes to avoid being beaten up for the third time that week.

His uncle Vernon had always said he was unnatural, Dudley and his friends called him a freak, and his aunt Petunia... well, she didn't say he was anything for the most part.  She just looked at him in that spiteful and disgusted way, which said all there was to be said without actually speaking.

Also, most kids had parents or at the very least had one.

None of this made Harry special, though, just a little strange and _very_ unlucky.  He'd long ago decided that it was all part of the same pattern of bad luck that had haunted him all his life.  It was that bad luck that had left him orphaned at a year old and living with his mother's sister and her family.  Vernon and Petunia Dursley hadn't _asked_ to be Harry's only living relatives and they'd always made it perfectly plain that they hadn't wanted him.  That they resented being stuck with the burden of raising him when they already had a son of their own to take care of.

After all, Harry was "the wrong sort."  As opposed to the Dursley's who were "the right sort" and where therefore naturally better than him.  As far as Harry could tell being "the wrong sort" mostly had to do with having perpetual bad luck and never having anything good come his way.

Or so he'd always believed.

Until midnight on Harry's eleventh birthday when a giant with wild black hair and a long curling beard had appeared with a rather squashed and misspelled birthday cake and the most incredible story Harry had ever heard in his life.  It turned out that uncle Vernon had been right all along.  Harry _had_ been causing all those strange things to happen, he just hadn't realized it.  There was something in him, something strange, and powerful.  His aunt and uncle had hoped that by punishing him every time he did something strange they could make him stop, make this thing inside of him go away.  They'd hoped to somehow _force_ him into being normal.  But they couldn't and he wasn't.

Harry sighed to himself, staring intently out the car window at the passing countryside.  He attempted to distract himself by trying to count passing cars on the motorway or flocks of sheep in the fields beyond, but had to give it up as his mind continually slipped back to earlier that summer.

One of his teachers had been very fond of saying that truth was stranger than fiction.  Even she couldn't have imagined this though.  She couldn't have even imagined the storyteller himself, never mind the story!  Hagrid had been the single largest person Harry had ever seen, he towered over everyone and his black eyes only barely peaked out at the world from among his wild hair.  He hadn't looked _possible_.  And to top it all off, he'd calmly lit a fire in the fireplace by shooting flames out of the end of a pink umbrella.  After that, Harry would have been prepared to believe almost anything Hagrid said.  Almost.

No, that wasn't exactly right.  It wasn't that Harry _didn't_ believe what Hagrid had told him.  It was just that... that...  It just seemed so incredible.  Not the story itself, although that was amazing enough, but that it was about _Harry_ of all people.

Hagrid had told him about how his parents had really died  –  murdered by a dark wizard by the name of Lord Voldemort.  He'd gone on to tell Harry the reason they had died, what they had been... what Harry himself was.  A Wizard.  That the scar on his forehead was left there as a result of the same dark wizard tyring to kill him as well.  Harry, it seemed, was the first ever to survive an attack by Lord Voldemort and to this day no one knew how or why.  It still seemed unreal.

Harry was nothing special, he knew that.  And even after Hagrid had taken him to Diagon Alley, showed him a bank run by goblins, racing brooms, and mail delivered by owls... even after Harry had found just the right wand, the wand that chose him and had shot red and gold sparks across the room when he'd picked it up... part of him still couldn't believe it was all true.  And that wasn't the end of it either, which was why he was fidgeting restlessly in the car this morning.

He'd kept the train ticket Hagrid had given him on his bedside table and read it every night before he went to sleep.

He'd fretted constantly for the last month, waking up every morning to jump out of bed and check that all his new things were still there, to open the books of magic, to pet his new owl, Hedwig, and assure himself that it hadn't all disappeared in the night.  To assure himself that it wasn't all just a dream.  It had all been there every morning and now  –  finally  –  it was time.

He was leaving his aunt and uncle's house on Privet Drive behind and going to Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  The school the parents he'd never known had attended when they'd been his age.  He looked at his ticket again, reading it for the hundredth time that day alone.

Hogwart's Express  
King's Cross Station  
Platform 9¾  
1st of September  
11 am

Glaring at the window beside him as Dudley kicked him for no apparent reason, Harry wished the car would go faster, get to the train station already.  The drive to London had never seemed to take so long before.  Surely, the car was going far too slow...  Then he caught himself up short.

Hagrid had explained that it was his heightened emotions that had caused magical things to happen around him before.  He tore his eyes away from the glass suddenly afraid of what his wishing might do.  Would it be possible for the car to suddenly start going too fast for Uncle Vernon to control?  Or could glass of his window disappear like the glass in the snake house at the zoo.

Harry distracted himself by wondering what had ever happened to the snake he'd unintentionally released.  He'd wondered for ages afterward if he was going crazy.  He had been absolutely positive at the time that the snake had spoken to him.  He could still remember what it's voice sounded like.  Odd and raspy, not like any human voice he'd ever heard.  Well, he supposed he could thank the magic for that as well.  He rather hoped the snake was doing alright.  Harry'd actually liked him, something in him had seemed like a kindred spirit.  Now he wasn't living in captivity any more, he was free.  And as of today... so was Harry.

He couldn't help but smile slightly to himself as he always did when he thought of just how much he and that boa constrictor had had in common.

It wasn't until they actually entered London proper that the butterflies began in Harry's stomach.  He was actually going.  He was leaving the only home he'd ever known and going to some strange place to learn magic.  What was he getting himself into?  The sudden fear shot through him and almost took his breath away.  What if this didn't work?  What if Hagrid was wrong and Harry _didn't_ have the same abilities his parents had?  What if his magic was just naturally erratic and he'd never be able to control it enough to be a real wizard?  What if...

And suddenly they were there, pulling into King's Cross Station.  And suddenly Harry _really_ didn't want to get out of that car.  But the choice was already made wasn't it?  He couldn't go back now.

Neither Aunt Petunia or Dudley were going to bother getting out of the car.  Dudley gave Harry a dirty look that Harry ignored but he still waited a moment before getting out himself, looking up to the passenger's seat where his aunt Petunia sat.  She said nothing though, she didn't even bother to turn around or take any notice of Harry whatsoever.  She sat ramrod straight, staring straight ahead.  After a few moments Harry reluctantly got out of the car.

He told himself that he was relieved.  After all, she'd never said a kind word to him in his life.  Anything she said now was going to be cruel.  But... somehow to be completely ignored...  At least she could have...

No, he told himself firmly.  No he was _glad_ she hadn't said anything.  Really.

Uncle Vernon, to Harry's great surprise, not only unloaded Harry's trunk from the boot of the car for him, but put it on a trolley and wheeled it into the station himself.  Harry followed behind him, carrying Hedwig's cage which earned him a few odd looks from passersby.

He felt rather dazed as he walked through the morning crowd, unable to take in what was going on around him.  He'd been waiting for this for ages and now it didn't seem possible or real.  He was entirely out of his depth.  So, he simply followed until Vernon stopped.

"Well, there you are, boy.  Platform nine  –  platform ten.  Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"

Harry stared dumbly at the partition in front of him.  There were the two platforms, just as Vernon had pointed out and between them there was nothing, just a long walk way with occasional brick partitions with little plastic signs on them, a number nine on one side and a ten on the other.  There was no platform nine and three-quarters.  Harry looked back at his ticket to confirm what it said, even though he knew it by heart.  The edges were somewhat warn by constant handling, but the writing was still perfectly clear.

Hogwart's Express  
King's Cross Station  
Platform 9¾  
1st of September  
11 am

"Have a good term," his uncle Vernon said in a pleasant tone.  It was that, even more than the nasty smile on his face that made Harry's stomach clench and the hair stand up on the back of his neck.  He tensed himself.  Uncle Vernon _never_ spoke to him in a pleasant tone without it being followed by something that hurt.  He momentarily forgot the platforms, the people around him, and the ticket in his hand waiting for what was to come next.  But nothing happened.  Vernon merely turned and left without another word.

Harry stared after him in bewilderment. _He's leaving me here,_ he thought dazedly. _There's no platform nine and three-quarters.  I can't get to school and he's leaving me here in the middle of King's Cross with no way home._

Harry wanted to run after him, terrified of being left alone here with no where to go...

_He'd go running to catch up and get back in the car to endure Dudley's snickering all the way home.  And when they got back to Privet Drive he'd carefully pack away all this nonsense about magic and wizards and..._

No!

Harry straitened his shoulders.  He couldn't do that.  Yes, he was scared.  He'd never been left alone in a place this big in his life.  For that matter he'd barely ever been left alone before.  His aunt and uncle had always kept him close, rarely letting him go anywhere, afraid that he'd somehow cause them embarrassment if they weren't there to control him at all times.  But he wasn't going to go running back.  After all, the boa constrictor hadn't stayed it its cage or even looked back, and he hadn't known nothing of but captivity either.  He'd seized the chance at freedom and run – well, slithered – as fast as he could toward and equally uncertain fate.  What else could Harry do but follow his example?

There had to be some kind of misunderstanding here.  There _must_ be a platform nine and three-quarters around somewhere.  Hagrid wouldn't have given him a useless ticket.  He had to be sure of that because... well, he didn't have anything else _to_ be sure of.

There had been a trick to getting into Diagon Alley, Harry remembered that.  Hagrid had tapped a particular brick in a wall and the wall had opened to reveal the street beyond.  It was probably the same kind of thing here.  The only problem was that Harry could well imagine good-natured but absentminded Hagrid accidentally forgetting to tell him the trick of getting onto the right platform.

All right, he'd just have to find it himself.

However, after fifteen minutes of fruitless searching for _anything_ that might indicate how to get onto the right platform he was beginning to wonder if it would do any good to show his ticket to one of the guards and ask or whether they'd just laugh at him. _They'd probably just laugh,_ he though disconsolately.

"...packed with Muggles, of course..."

Harry had only just overheard the words from a group passing behind him.  Muggles.  He remembered that word.  It was the term Hagrid had used for people without magic.

Harry turned so fast he almost fell over his own feet and managed to spot a pump, red-haired women, walking briskly along platform nine, pulling a little redheaded girl along by the hand.  She'd been speaking over her shoulder to four boys, all of whom also had red hair and each of whom were pushing trolleys of their own along.  And one of them  –  Harry caught his breath in a flood of relief  – one of them had a small, brown owl in a cage.

Hesitating only a moment, Harry pushed his trolley after them, trying to see where they were headed.  He couldn't quite hear what they all said to each other, but he was certain he heard someone mention platform nine and three-quarters.  Or maybe he'd only heard it because he so much wanted to.  His heart was racing as they stopped in front of one of the brick partitions between platforms nine and ten.

"Mum, can't I go..." the girl was saying plaintively.  She was small, smaller even than Harry and probably a little younger.  Her long hair was bound back in a ponytail and she shifted constantly from foot to foot as though unable to stand still.

The woman shook her head definitively, but her voice was kind as she answered.  "You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet."  She turned to the boys.  "All right, Percy, you go first."

Harry held his breath as the boy with the owl, who appeared to be the oldest of them, headed toward the divider.  He was tall and skinny with glasses and he held himself very upright as he strode quickly forward.  But as he reached the partition, he just... vanished.  Harry could feel his jaw drop.  You couldn't just walk into a wall!  Where had he gone?

"Fred, you next."

"I'm not Fred, I'm George.  Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother?  Can't you _tell_ I'm Fred?"  Harry managed to tear his eyes away from the barrier Percy had walked into to take in the next two boys, a set of twins so alike they made Harry's head hurt.  They were a little shorter than their brother, but with wider shoulders and more relaxed demeanours even as they both looked at their mother with identical looks of exasperation.

"Sorry, George, dear," their mother said, with the long suffering voice of someone who had this happen all the time.  Harry was impressed.  He'd always thought that at least the mother of a set of twins would be able to tell the difference.  But these two were even dressed alike and apparently she often couldn't tell.

A wicked grin suddenly broke across the boy's face.  "Just joking, I am Fred."

The girl  –  Ginny?  –  giggled and the boys' mother frowned, but didn't have a chance to answer as Fred disappeared into the barrier with George at his heals.  Harry blinked again and shook his head.  As they each reached the barrier they'd simply vanished, just like their brother.  No sign of _how_ they'd managed it.  He glanced around quickly to see if anyone else had noticed, but no one else was paying the little group any attention at all.

Should he ask?  He'd been watching as closely as he could... he opened his mouth to call out and then hesitated, uncertainly.  What if the lady was annoyed at the intrusion of this total stranger?

"Now you, Ron," the woman said to the last boy.  He appeared to be about Harry's age, a little taller than he was though with the more stocky build of the twins rather than the slighter one of Percy and Ginny.  Harry bit his lip.  He'd watch really closely this time.  He was _sure_ he could figure it out if only...

But as Ron reached the barrier he too simply vanished from sight.  Panic seized Harry as the women and the girl walked toward the barrier.

"Wait!"  Harry was pushing his trolley toward them even before they turned around to look at him in surprise.  "Um," he said stupidly as he reached them.  "Excuse me, I..." he looked longingly toward the barrier and wondered how you went about asking how four boys had just disappeared in front of your eyes.

"Hello, dear," the woman said kindly.  "First time at Hogwarts?"

Harry nodded gratefully.  "Yes."

"You're lucky," said Ginny petulantly.  "I wish _I_ was going."

"Not until next year," her mother said firmly.

"The thing is..." Harry said, uncertainly.  "The thing is, I don't know how to..."

"...how to get onto the platform?" she finished for him, smiling.  "Not to worry.  All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten.  Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important.  Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous.  Go on now."  She waved him through ahead of herself and her daughter.

"Er... okay."  Harry took a deep breath.  Glancing side to side to make sure no one was looking at him and that no one was about to walk in front of him, he started toward the barrier.  He managed to pick up a good bit of speed, he couldn't have stopped at this point if he'd wanted to.  He just kept the images of the four boys vanishing into this wall in his mind.  _They_ hadn't crashed, so neither would he, he told himself firmly.

He closed his eyes at the last minute and then...  Something brushed his face, like he'd just walked through a cobweb except that it was cool.  When he opened his eyes he was on another platform, full of other boys and girls with their parents and trunks and cages with animals in.  An old fashion train, painted red with the words 'Hogwart's Express' written on it stood in front of him.

"Wow," he said under his breath.

A moment later the plump woman and her daughter appeared behind him.

"See," the woman said in a kind voice, patting Harry shoulder.  "That wasn't so hard."

"Thanks," Harry said shyly.

Ginny looked back over her shoulder as they walked away in search of the rest of their family and gave Harry a smile and a wave.  Harry felt a grin spread across his face and waved back before the two vanished, this time quite naturally, into the crowd of people.

* * * 

It took Harry a while to find a car that didn't seem to already be full of other children, mostly hanging out the windows of various compartments, saying goodbye to their families or shouting to friends.  He lugged his trunk off the trolley and only _just_ managed to manhandle it up the step onto the train.  But as he looked at the luggage racks he realized that all the empty spaces were too high up for him to possibly lift the trunk onto.  He tried anyway, but realized quickly that he'd been right.  There was _no way_ he was going to be able to actually _lift_ his trunk.

"Want a hand?"  He turned in surprise to see one of the red-headed twins from the platform standing behind him.

"Yes, please," he panted.  Were all wizards as friendly as this family, he wondered as the twin leaned out the door.

"Oy, Fred!" he called.  "C'mere and help!"

George and Fred lifted the trunk with only minimal difficulty up onto the luggage rack.

"Don't worry about getting back down again," one of them told him.  "When we get to the school they'll take care of getting your luggage to your dormitory for you."

"Thanks," Harry said and really meant it.

"No problem," the other answered.  "Just started, huh?"

Harry nodded sheepishly, wondering if it was _that_ obvious.

"Our brother Ron's just starting this year, too.  I'm George Weasley, by the way, and this is Fred."

"Harry Potter," Harry said.

_"Harry Potter?!"_ Fred gasped after a minute of shocked silence.

"Um, yeah?"  The butterflies started up in Harry's stomach again.  He hadn't even realized they'd stopped, but they were certainly back now.  Oh dear, hadn't Hagrid said something about this?  About how everyone in the wizarding world knew about the night his parents had died and Voldemort had vanished?  Everyone in the Leakey Cauldron, the tavern through which they'd entered Diagon Alley, had known who he was.  But they'd been adults.  They could be expected to know what had happened ten years before.  Fred and George weren't that much older than he was.  There was no way they could _remember_ something that happened ten years ago.

Oh God, did _everyone_ know who he was?

He was blushing again and didn't know what to say to their shocked stares and so it was with a sense of relief that he heard the twin's mother calling for them.  And with final looks extreme curiosity, the twins headed off.


	2. Meetings

Harry lingered over Hedwig's cage for a while, making sure she was carefully stowed and avoiding the point he'd actually have to leave her and find a place to sit.  He didn't know anyone on the train and no matter how much he'd wanted this, wanted to be going to Hogwarts, now that he was here and it was really happening... part of him wanted to be safely back in his cupboard where at least he knew everyone around him and what to expect from them.  And what was more, knew what they expected from him.

There were no surprises on Privet Drive.  Every day was very much like the one before and the people there never changed.  Dudley was always to be avoided if possible.  Harry knew what was likely to set Uncle Vernon off and when it wasn't a good idea to say anything to Aunt Petunia.  Even at school, where he didn't necessarily know all the kids, he knew what kinds of taunts they used and where he could probably find a place to be alone during lunch.  He knew which caretaker's closets were generally unlocked and unused... perfect for one skinny kid to hide in for a while when he needed some peace and quite, needed to feel safe.

But now... for the first time in his life Harry was surrounded by people he didn't know the first thing about.  He had no idea what to expect from them.  He didn't know anything about the wizarding world, not really.  He didn't know what he should say or do.  It was all so... different.

The red haired family had been friendly enough, but the burst of confidence there kindness had given him was fading fast.  How much magic would his classmates already know?  He was sure that he was already behind before the classes had even started.  What if they were like the kids at his other school?  What if they wouldn't like him because of his baggy clothes and taped glasses?  What if they laughed at him?  Would he be able to find places to hide at this school where he could be safe for a little while?  Would the caretakers ever leave some of their closets unlocked?  Would a magical school even _have_ a caretaker?

_Stop it,_ he told himself.  There was no point in worrying about it now, since he was already on the train.  He _was_ going to Hogwarts and all he could do was try his best and hope.  Besides, he reminded himself sternly for the millionth time.  Eleven-year-old boys _didn't_ hide in closets when they were scared.

With a final sigh, he gently stroked the soft feathers of Hedwig's head before turning reluctantly away...  And directly into someone else.

"Ow."

"Watch it!"

Harry looked up at the boy he'd run into, rubbing at his forehead where he'd hit it on the other boy's nose.  The face was familiar, though it took Harry a moment to place him.  He was about Harry's age, only a little taller and about as slight of build.  The boy was very pale, with a sharp face, and hair so blonde it was nearly white.  He glared angrily at Harry from cold grey eyes.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, realizing uncomfortably why the boy was familiar.  He’d been in Madam Menkin's shop, where he'd bought his school robes that day in Diagon Alley.  He’d acted as though Harry had somehow been beneath him and had reminded him rather strongly of Dudley, only more intelligent and with a bit of sophistication.

He was flanked by two other boys, both taller and darker than their companion.  They were both very large and something about the way they stood to either side and just behind the smaller one made Harry think of thugs or bodyguards, or worse... Dudley's gang.  The blonde boy was rubbing at his nose and he opened his mouth as if to say something but then stopped, his eyes riveted on where Harry's hand was still at his forehead.  He met Harry's eyes again after a moment, and the glare had melted away to be replaced by a glitter of interest in his pale eyes.

Harry shifted uneasily, not sure he liked the look.

"Well, that sort of thing is bound to happen on a crowded train," he said finally, in a reasonable tone.  "Haven't we met before?"

Harry nodded carefully.  "Yes.  In Madam Menkin's shop."

"Ah yes, of course," the blonde drawled, smiling at Harry in a way Harry supposed was meant to be friendly.  "This is Crabbe and Goyle," he said, motioning casually back toward his two companions who had yet to open their mouths.  "And I'm Malfoy," he continued, putting out his hand, his smile beginning to warm a little.  "Draco Malfoy."  Harry looked at the hand, caught between the strong reminder of Dudley he'd felt in the shop and his intense desire to know _someone_ here.

Inwardly, Harry shook himself.  Draco – and what kind of a name was that anyway – was smiling at him for crying out loud.  He was trying to be friendly.  _Maybe he'd been having a bad day when we meet before, Harry told himself.  It's not fair to judge him from a chance encounter of less than five minutes a month ago!_

Harry took the offered hand, it was cool and dry again Harry's damp palm.  Harry smiled, feeling oddly heartened.

"Harry Potter," he said.  Twin gasps from behind Draco caught Harry's attention but Draco's smile only widened, the glitter in his eyes growing as well.

"I thought so," he said confidently as he released Harry.

"Sorry?" Harry asked in confusion, uncomfortable again and trying very hard not to look at Crabbe and Goyle who were now looking at him with focused interest.  Draco motioned leisurely to Harry's forehead.

"Your scar," he explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  "It's quite famous, you know."

"It is?"  Harry's hand went to his forehead again, self-consciously smoothing his fringe back down over it.  "I mean... I'd heard that people knew who I was but..."  Harry shut his mouth before he could make any more of an idiot out of himself.  But Draco seemed unfazed.

"So it's true then, you really were taken off to live with muggles."  Draco made a face, not waiting for Harry to reply.  "That must have been awful.  But, no matter.  You're back with your own kind now and there's no reason you shouldn't pick everything up fairly quickly.  With the right help, of course."

Draco smiled again and this time it seemed entirely sincere.  The smile was simply friendly and the invitation very much something Harry wanted to hear.  He wasn't sure what to say though.  He suddenly wanted nothing so much as to take Draco up on his offer of guidance, but how pathetic would he sound if he actually said so?

Harry was saved having to answer by a sudden shift in the train under their feet and the blowing of its whistle, signalling their departure.

"If we're going to find a car that's not already full, we'd better go," Draco said, glancing back at one of his two friends.  "You're welcome to sit with us," he said to Harry.  "Unless, you've got other friends you wanted to sit with...?"

"I don't know anyone here," Harry admitted reluctantly.

Draco smiled.  "You do now."

Harry's face broke into a grin.  He couldn't help it.  Draco may have seemed a little odd, but he was friendly and that was something..  Draco turned and led the way through the door into the car beyond.  Harry paused, glancing uncertainly at Crabbe and Goyle.  He barely came up to the taller one's shoulder.  His impressive height was topped by a thatch of tightly curling brown hair and somehow those curls, combined with the genuine smile he offered Harry then seemed to reduce his menace considerably.

"Vincent Crabbe," he said, as if he had realized Harry couldn't possibly have figured out which of them was which from Draco's perfunctory introduction.  He nodded to the other boy who was shorter, plump, and darker.  "He's Gregory Goyle."  Gregory smiled at Harry in a kind of vacant way which, though it implied he may not be all there, was certainly by no means threatening.  This, while Vincent continued to smile in a sincere, almost shy, manner.

"Nice to meet you," Harry said, feeling suddenly guilty for thinking the two looked like thugs and mentally comparing him to Dudley's friends.  Had they been anything like Dudley's friends they'd have hit him by now, or at least shouted a bit.  Vincent motioned Harry to go on ahead.  Still feeling slightly embarrassed, Harry followed Draco into the first of the seating cars as the train began to move slowly out of the station.

Near the end they found a compartment that was not otherwise occupied and Draco strolled into it, tossing himself onto one of the seats by the window as comfortably as if he owned the place.  Gregory sat down heavily across from him, kicking his heals against the seat and gazing out the window at the train yards now moving past them.  Harry, paused, taking his time to close the door behind them, waiting to see where Vincent sat.  When he took the seat next to Gregory, Harry sat down across from him, next to Draco.  He perched a little uncertainly on his seat, waiting for someone to say something.

He didn't have too long to wait.

"Did you really live with Muggles?" Vincent suddenly burst out, as though he'd been dying to ask the question all along.

"Yes," Harry said, a little surprised.

"I've always wondered... how do they do anything without magic?" Vincent asked, his face alight with curiosity.  "I mean, doesn't it get cold at night without spells to keep the rooms warm?  And don't the candles drip everywhere without charms to stop them?"

Harry blinked, a little overwhelmed by the bombardment of questions on subjects he himself had always taken for granted.

_Candles?_ he thought blankly.

"Um...  Well, we have central heating,” he answered.  “And we don't usually use candles, except when the power goes out.  We've got electric lights.  Actually, pretty much everything's done with electricity."

"What's 'lectris’ty?" Vincent asked.

"Does it really matter what _Muggles_ do?" Draco said at the same time.  The way he said 'Muggles' implied that it was a rather nasty word he didn't like saying.  Vincent's enthusiasm dimmed considerably at Draco's statement and he frowned, apparently caught between his own curiosity and Draco's obvious non-interest in the subject.

Harry was too shocked to worry about Draco at the moment though.  What was electricity?  Vincent couldn't be serious, he just couldn’t!  Except that he really did seem to be.

"Uh, well.... You know lightning, right?" Harry asked, trying to think back to his science classes and suddenly wishing he'd paid more attention.  "Well, that's e-lec-trici-ty.”  He stressed the syllables of the word a little for Vincent’s benefit.  “Except Muggles put it into wires and the wires run it into all the houses and that runs everything.  Heating, lights... just everything."

"Lightning?" Draco asked incredulously, interested in spite of himself.

"Not actually lightning," Harry conceded, struggling to figure out how to explain this.  He'd never really thought much about it before.  Electricity was just there and everyone accepted that.  "They get it by burning things, I think," he continued, remembering something about a protest to do with overusing fossils of some kind at the local power plant.  "But it's pretty much the same stuff as lightning."

"Huh," Vincent said, obviously impressed.  "And that _works?"_

Harry nodded.  He was thrilled though a little bemused that he actually knew something they didn't, even if it was only about Muggle things.  He was sure he was incredibly far behind them in all things  wizarding.

"You just flip a switch and the lights come on," he continued.  "Or you turn a dial and the house heats up."

_At least it would,_ Harry added to himself, _if Uncle Vernon had ever let us turn up the heat very much. _But he'd always insisted on using a bare minimum so their power bill didn't go up.  And so it _did_ get cold in the house at night.  Especially in Harry's closet where, unlike the bedrooms, there was no heating duct.__

__Draco snorted.  "It couldn't possibly work as well as magic," he said authoritatively.  "My father says that Muggles are in the _dark ages_ in comparison to us.  They can't even heal broken bones!"_ _

__"Yes, they can," Harry objected, feeling as though he should stand up for the world he grew up in.  "My arm was broken once.  Well, twice actually.  Both times the doctors set the bone and put my arm in a cast.  No problem.  I had the cast off in a little over a month."_ _

__" _A month?_ " Vincent asked in shock._ _

__Draco nodded, as though Harry had just proven his point for him.  "Exactly."_ _

__"Yeah?" Harry said, wondering what the big deal was._ _

__"I broke my finger once," Draco explained, holding up the pinkie finger on his right hand.  "All it took was a simple healing spell and it was fine.  A little sore for a day or two, but that's all."_ _

__Now, it was Harry's turn to be shocked.  "Wow."_ _

__Draco folded his arms and looked smug.  " _That's_ why wizards always come out better than Muggles.  You can have all the 'lec-tricity, you want.  But without magic, you're nowhere."_ _

__"I fell out of a tree and broke my leg when I was seven."  It was the first time Gregory had said anything and Harry was startled.  He had a oddly high voice for a boy of his size.  Draco glared at him, his moment of superiority lost as focus shifted away from him.  Gregory didn't notice.  He'd already gone back to staring out the window at the passing houses of London.  Harry glanced at Vincent and the larger boy merely shrugged as though to say that was Gregory for you._ _

__"So, do you know what house you're going to be in?" Vincent asked, drawing everyone's attention away from both Gregory and Muggles._ _

__"No," Harry admitted.  "Do you?"  It occurred to him that that had been one of the first things Draco had asked him in Madam Menkin's._ _

__Vincent shrugged, but it was Draco who answered._ _

__"All three of us will be in Slytherin," he said firmly.  "Our family's have been for generations."_ _

__"Wow," Harry said again, and meant it.  He was full of questions again, but terrified of asking them.  What if he looked like a complete idiot in front of the first potential friends he'd ever had?  But Draco _had_ offered to help and Harry was just beginning to relax a little.  He was feeling a bit more confident after being able to share his knowledge about the Muggle world with them._ _

__"Is what house you're in so important at Hogwarts?" Harry asked, with only minimal trepidation.  He regretted it almost the minute the question was out of his mouth when Draco and Vincent both looked at him in utter shock._ _

__"House is _everything_ ," Draco said.  "What house you're in...  It's just everything."_ _

__"Oh," Harry mumbled, feeling himself go red._ _

__"You don't know anything about the houses?" Vincent asked._ _

__"Um, Draco mentioned.... something about a house before in Madam Menkin's but..."  Harry sighed, deciding to plunge in.  He'd never learn if he didn't ask, and the heady experience of being able to ask questions without being yelled at or hit was still new enough to be an incentive in it's own right.  Questions about _anything_ had not welcome on Privett Drive._ _

__"But no, I haven't heard anything more than that," he admitted, which wasn't entirely true, of course.  Now that Harry thought about it, he was sure Hagrid had said something about them.  But that had been over a month ago and Harry found he couldn't quite remember what he'd said now.  There had been so much new information that day, he simply hadn't been able to absorb all of it at the time._ _

__Well, he'd have to start learning somewhere.  "So, um... What are the houses called?"_ _

__"Well, there's Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor," Vincent supplied helpfully.  "Draco's right, though.  We'll be in Slytherin."_ _

__"You don't _actually_ know for sure until you're sorted, of course," Draco took over, having recovered from his shock he spoke with the firm authority that Harry was beginning to realize was his default manner.  "My father's told me all about the sorting hat.  It's enchanted to be able to look into your mind.  They place it on your head and it tells you what house you're going to be in.  It's all based on personality."_ _

__"What about your personality?"  He wasn't the most interesting person in the world, Harry thought uncomfortably.  Could you be kicked out of Hogwarts for being too boring?_ _

__"You know," Draco shrugged.  "What kind of person you are."_ _

___Skinny? _Harry thought. _Boring?  Very, very confused?___ _ _

____"So, what kind of person is... a Gryffindor?" Harry asked, latching on to a name at random._ _ _ _

____Draco's nose wrinkled in disgust.  "All they care about is bravery.  My father says they're all a bunch of 'Holier Than Thou Art Pains'.  They think they're better than everyone else just because they're too stupid to think about things before they go and get themselves killed."_ _ _ _

____Harry frowned.  He certainly didn't feel brave, at the moment all he felt was a little sick to his stomach.  He was uncomfortably aware that he was as likely  –  maybe even more likely  –  to run away from a threat as to stand and fight, unless he had a very good reason not to.  Not the house for him, then._ _ _ _

____"What about the raven one?"_ _ _ _

____"Ravenclaw's full of people too smart for their own good," Draco informed him.  "All they care about are books and studying.  But it's at least a half-way respectable house and not a complete disgrace."_ _ _ _

____"My brother was in Ravenclaw," Vincent offered.  "He liked it there, but it's kind of competitive when it comes to what marks you get.  You really have to study hard and do well to get anywhere in that house."_ _ _ _

____Again, Harry frowned.  While his marks had never been _bad_   –  they'd always been fairly decent actually  –  they were never terribly high either.  And there were lots of things he was interested in other than studying._ _ _ _

_____Not Ravenclaw then,_ he thought sullenly.  That left only two others._ _ _ _

____"The house you want to be in though is Slytherin, if you can manage it," Draco said authoritatively.  Slytherin is by far the best house to be in.  Slytherins are... practical.  The Ravenclaws may bury their heads in books and Gryffindors don't see anything that doesn't fit their own version of reality.  But Slytherins live in the real world.  We do what we have to do to get what we want and don't worry about how the other houses judge us."  There was real pride in Draco's voice and Vincent nodded, obviously in complete agreement._ _ _ _

_____Practical._ _ _ _ _

____Harry rolled the word around in his head.  Practical was something he felt he might actually have a chance of being.  He thought of all the times he'd ignored the snickering of his classmates and simply sat there while Dudley's friends blew spitballs at him.  It had mattered more to him that he didn't provoke Dudley's gang than what his classmates thought of him.  It was what had been necessary if he wanted to avoid getting beaten up that day.  If that avoiding meant that the other kids laughed at him than let them laugh.  It certainly wasn't the brave thing to do and it may not have been the most intellegent thing to do, but it _had_ been the practical thing to do.  At least Harry had thought so._ _ _ _

____"Sounds like a house I could live with," he said, immensely relieved that at least one houses had characteristics that didn't seem entirely out of his reach._ _ _ _

____Draco nodded.  "Given half a chance, it's definitely where you want to be.  Slytherins stick together, no matter what."_ _ _ _

____"House Solidarity," Vincent stated, as though he'd memorized the phrase.  "My sister's in Slytherin," he said proudly.  "She's a seventh year and a prefect."_ _ _ _

____"How many siblings do you have?" Harry laughed._ _ _ _

____"Just the two," Vincent said.  "But they're really great."_ _ _ _

____Draco rolled his eyes.  "Better shut him up now or he'll talk about them forever.  They're not actually _that_ interesting."_ _ _ _

____Vincent grinned, obviously not insulted in the least._ _ _ _

____"So, what about the other house... Huffle-something?" Harry asked, wondering if Slytherin was his only option, though he couldn't say it didn't sound like a nice place to be.  Especially, if Draco was right and he, Vincent, and Gregory really were all destined for that house.  Then Harry would already know a few of his dormmates.  And the idea of being in a house that stuck together appealed greatly._ _ _ _

____"Hufflepuffs, in a word, are victims," Draco said and Harry's heart sank.  "All they care about is being nice all the time to everyone, no matter what.  I think it's against their house code or something to stand up for themselves _or_ their friends.  They can be useful, but to actually _be_ in Hufflepuff....?  It'd be a disgrace."_ _ _ _

____Vincent didn't seem entirely happily by this portrayal but he didn't contradict Draco either._ _ _ _

____Harry repressed a sigh.  A victim was something he was used to being and the uncomfortable thought formed that Hufflepuff might fit him best of all.  Except that he did stand up for himself, or at least tried to from time to time.  Usually it just got him beat up all the worse, but he couldn't just take it all the time and not try to fight back at least a little, some of the time.  Or run away if he could.  He'd gotten very good at running away from Dudley and his gang.  Would that be enough to disqualify him from that house?  He hoped so.  The idea of the first friends he'd ever had all being in Slytherin and laughing at him in Hufflepuff..._ _ _ _

_____Slytherin,_ Harry thought, desperately.  _Please let me be in Slytherin.__ _ _ _

____"I have a sister," Gregory declared, tearing his gaze away from the countryside to beam at the rest of the group in his vague manner.  "Her name's Mary and she was in Slytherin.  But not now though.  Now she's married and has her own house in Dover."  He then turned back to the window, seeming to become oblivious to the rest of them again._ _ _ _

____Draco looked deeply annoyed by the interruption.  But when Vincent started laughing Harry couldn't help but join in, feeling more cheerful than he had since the day Hagrid had taken him to Diagon Alley._ _ _ _

_____Practical,_ he thought to himself.  _Just think practical and everything will be fine._____

 _ _ _ _* * *____

 _ _ _ _What was left of the morning passed remarkably fast while Harry slowly relaxed in the company of his new  –  his very first  –  friends.  He'd never had a chance to spend time around other boys his own age without having to worry about being beaten up or laughed at before.  He still wasn’t sure why these three had decided to let him join their ranks, but he wasn’t complaining.  They were fun, even if Draco had a tendency to puff himself up a bit and Gregory was only ever half there at any given time.  Vincent would just roll his eyes in a long suffering manner which said it was all perfectly normal, which made Harry grin.  It all began to feel right somehow.  As if, _this_ had always been were Harry was meant to be._ _ _ _

____It was comforting beyond all measure._ _ _ _

____They'd been on the train for a couple of the best hours of Harry's life when a pump woman with a cart stopped outside their car and opened the door._ _ _ _

____"Anything off the trolley, dears?" she asked cheerfully._ _ _ _

____Harry had been far too nervous to so much as think about eating that morning even if that Dursleys _had_ set a place for him at the breakfast table, which they hadn't.  Even so, Harry bounced up out of his seat faster than he'd expected he was capable of, suddenly realizing how long it had been since he'd eaten.  But as he reached the door ready to start asking for all the treats he'd rarely been able to get his hands on at home he caught sight of the cart itself.  It was piled high with all sorts of things… it was just that none of them were things that Harry recognized._ _ _ _

____He shut his mouth, completely at a loss._ _ _ _

____Gregory, however, had snapped out of his daydreaming at the mention of food and had wasted no time.  He'd jumped up and hurried over to the cart almost as fast as Harry had, nearly trampling the smaller boy in his haste._ _ _ _

____"I'd like six pumpkin pasties, five caldron cakes, eight liquorice wands, and three boxes of Every Flavour Beans," he said eagerly.  "Please," he added as an afterthought._ _ _ _

____Harry blinked._ _ _ _

____Draco, who'd strolled languidly over to stand behind Harry and look on over his shoulder, rolled his eyes.  "And people wonder why you're fat, Greg," he muttered._ _ _ _

____Gregory glanced back at him in some confusion.  "No they don't," he said matter-of-factly.  "Everyone knows I eat a lot."_ _ _ _

____Vincent barely managed to stifle a laugh as Gregory turned back to receive a pile of the requested sweets from the witch.  Draco glared at both of them, but was ignored in favour of the trolley._ _ _ _

____Harry was far too curious and not to mention hungry, to pay much attention to the exchange.  He pressed forward next to Gregory to look in wide-eyed wonderment at the array before them.  Well, there was only one way to find out what he liked and what he didn't.  He'd have to order at least one of everything.  His new wizarding money felt heavy in his pocket and the prospect of such extravagance pulled at him._ _ _ _

____Gregory was trying to dig his money out of his pockets without dropping anything and it occurred to Harry that he could... well, thank his three companions for how nice they'd been to him as well._ _ _ _

____"Don't worry about it, Greg," Harry said.  "I'll pay for it."_ _ _ _

____Gregory looked at him in surprise.  "Oh, it's okay.  I've got money here somewhere," he said misunderstanding._ _ _ _

____"Keep it.  My treat.  And umm..." Harry said digging down into his own pocket and pulling out a handful of the shiny Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts Hagrid had helped him collect from his parents' vault at the wizarding bank the month before.  "And I'll take four of everything," he told the witch.  "Its for you guys, too," he supplied at the shocked expressions on Vincent and Draco's faces.  "My treat," he finished again lamely, blushing as he turned back to the rather startled witch. She gave him a warm smile though as she told him how much that would all be.  Harry looked back down at the money in his hand, trying to remember what was what.  It had seemed a lot less confusing when Hagrid had been explaining it._ _ _ _

____"Here," said a voice close behind him.  Draco reached around him to carefully pick out how much was needed and hand it to the witch._ _ _ _

____Harry blushed even deeper.  "Thanks."_ _ _ _

____"You'll get the hang of it," Draco informed him as the four re-entered the train car, arms laden with more sweats than even Dudley could eat in a single sitting._ _ _ _

____"Thanks, Harry," Vincent said, dumping his armful on the seat and poking through it thoughtfully.  "Why though?"_ _ _ _

____"You're welcome," Harry muttered, still blushing.  "It's just that... I've never had anyone to share stuff with before and... well... you guys didn't have to invite me to sit with you and all...  So, thanks," he said, motioning to the sweets and suddenly feeling extremely foolish. _That's right, Harry.  Advertise to them how unwanted you usually are.__ _ _ _

____Draco sat back in his seat, pulling a liquorice wand from it's packaging.  "Well, you're more than welcome," he said simply.  "You've been fun yourself, you know.  I mean it’s not like we’ve hated having you here or anything."_ _ _ _

____"Your nice and this is good," Gregory commented, smiling at Harry before delving back into his pile of food._ _ _ _

____"Translation," Vincent said.  "The you're fun to have around and the food is very much appreciated.  Which I agree with."_ _ _ _

____"Ah's wha' I sai'," Gregory complained thickly around a large mouthful of pumpkin pasty.  "Basically," he added, after he'd swallowed.  He then quickly took another large bite._ _ _ _

____Harry grinned.  "Thanks," he said, still blushing, but not as badly.  He stuffed his hand into a box of Every Flavour Beans and popped one into his mouth to cover up for his lingering embarrassment._ _ _ _

____...and promptly spit the bean back out again, gagging._ _ _ _

____"Wha’..." was all he could manage as he grabbed for something  –  anything  –  to get the taste out of his mouth.  Draco shoved a cauldron cake he'd just unwrapped into his hand and Harry bit into it quickly._ _ _ _

____"I suppose we should have warned you about that," he drawled.  "You notice the package says Bertie Botts' _Every_ Flavour Beans?  They mean that."_ _ _ _

____"What did you get?" Vincent asked.  "I got a mouldy bread flavoured one myself once, it was...  really awful."  He shuddered at the memory._ _ _ _

____"I'm not sure," Harry said finally after he'd finished the cauldron cake and the taste of the bean had finally been driven from his mouth.  "I'm thinking it might have been petrol though, or something like that."_ _ _ _

____"What's petrol?" Vincent asked, eying the black bean curiously._ _ _ _

____"Umm... a muggle thing that isn't for eating," Harry said distractedly.  He eyed the rest of the box with extreme suspicion.  "Are they _all_ that bad?"_ _ _ _

____"Oh no," Draco said, with his calm authority.  "You just have to be really careful.  I mean there _are_ chocolate and raspberry and caramel flavoured beans.  But there are also the odder ones like mouldy bread and... what was it you said you got?  Pet-something?  Anyway," he continued, waving the matter away.  "You just have to pay attention to the colour of the bean you're about to eat and think about what that colour might be.  It's not that hard."_ _ _ _

____As if to demonstrate that the beans were not inherently dangerous he stuck his hand into Harry's box and pulled out a few.  He pushed them around in his palm with one long finger before carefully choosing a white one and popping it into his mouth._ _ _ _

____The moment he bit down though Draco's eyes widened, his expression changing to something between shock and deep concern.  He bit down only once more before swallowing hard with an air of choosing the better of two bad options._ _ _ _

____"Interesting," he remarked finally, his voice breaking slightly as he struggled to keep his dignity with only partial success.  "So, that's what bleach tastes like."_ _ _ _

____Vincent snorted, obviously trying very hard _not_ to laugh out loud._ _ _ _

____"I'd avoid the white ones then," Harry said, struggling to contain his own laughter.  "You look bleached enough to me already."_ _ _ _

____Harry nearly bit his tongue the moment the worlds were out of his mouth. _Way to go Harry, that's just how you make friend, by making fun of them!_   He could feel himself going red again, suddenly terrified that Draco would be angry._ _ _ _

____However, no one immediately turned on Harry.  It seemed that the comment was about as much as Vincent could take and he doubled over laughing.  Draco threw the remaining beans in his hand at him._ _ _ _

____"Shut up Vincent," he said snapped.  He sat back with his arms crossed, looking like a cat who's dignity had just been offended._ _ _ _

____Harry started breathing again._ _ _ _

____Gregory reached over and picked up one of the beans that Draco had thrown at Vincent from the seat.  It was an odd blue colour, but he only examined it for a minute before popping it into his mouth and smiling happily._ _ _ _

____"Blueberry," he said in satisfaction.  "I love blueberries."_ _ _ _

____Which was when Harry found himself laughing nearly as hard as Vincent at the look of pure disgust Draco gave Gregory._ _ _ _


	3. Who Has Toads Anymore?

Vincent and Harry had only barely managed to get their breath back and Draco was still doing a very good impression of an offended cat when the door to their car slid open again.  A girl about their age with frizzy brown hair and already wearing her school uniform was standing there.

"Have any of you seen a toad?" she demanded haughtily.  "A boy named Neville has lost one."

Her superior manner reminded Harry strongly of Draco, which was probably why the very sight of her obviously displeased the other boy.  He seemed to be trying very hard to look down his narrow nose at her while remaining seated.  It shouldn't have worked, but somehow Draco was pulling it off rather well.

"I don't see what business it is of yours whether we've seen a toad or not," he replied in loftily.

The two glared at one another and Harry rather felt that the air between them should freeze due to the shear chill in both of their expressions.  He glanced across at Vincent and was taken aback by the expression on his face.  Or, more accurately, the _lack_ of expression.  He was just looking at the girl with a surprisingly hard imperviability.  Beside him, Gregory had adopted a very similar non-expression.  They looked suddenly very large sitting there and rather... well... daunting.

Harry swallowed glanced back at Draco and then at the girl, at a loss as to what was happening.

"There's no reason to be rude," the girl said, obviously highly offended.  "I'm just asking if you have seen a toad."

"And I'm saying that it's none of your business," Draco said in a voice colder than Harry had thought was possible.

_"Well,"_ she snapped.  "There are obviously some people who just aren't worth talking to.  I'd be changing into my school uniform if I were you.  Nearly everyone else has, I expect we'll be arriving soon."  She shut the door a little harder than was necessary, going off in a huff.

"Well, _she's_ a piece of work isn't she?" Draco said to the car at large.

_Yes, she reminded me very much of you,_ Harry thought, but was smart enough not to say it.  The fact that she'd taken such a lofty tone with them the minute she opened the door _had_ rather put Harry's back up as well.  On the other hand, he couldn't help but feel Draco had been overreacting a bit.  He glanced nervously at Vincent and Gregory again, his confidence in the whole situation having suffered greatly.  But they seemed back to themselves again.  Or what Harry had come to think of as themselves.  Gregory was staring out the window at the countryside and Vincent had relaxed and started into a cauldron cake.  He smiled a little at Harry as if nothing too out of the ordinary had happened.

"And a _toad?_ " Draco continued, obviously not really needing the encouragement of a response.  "Who actually has _toads_ any more?"

"They were on the list of animals in the letter I got," Harry said, feeling like he needed to say _something_ if only to find out if anything _had_ changed.  It felt like it had to him, but none of the others seemed to sense it

"Well yes, of course," Draco conceded.  "But that doesn't mean that anyone would actually _have_ one."  He'd settled back into his seat, the whole incident with the bleach bean having been forgotten and his good humour restored.  It seemed as if driving the girl off had helped him to regain his composure.  "They're rather like Hufflepuffs," he continued in a confident tone.  "They're around and people have them as pets, but they aren't proper.  And one certainly wouldn't advertise it if you actually had one!"

"Not that Hufflepuffs make very good pets," Vincent added.  "They're kind of big to keep in a cage."

Harry grinned, feeling tension drain out of him again and Draco gave Vincent a special kind of disgusted look that Harry was just beginning to realise actually meant he was amused in spite of himself.  For whatever reason, possibly _because_ she was so much like him, that girl had really annoyed Draco and he'd reacted accordingly.  But now that she was gone, things were back to normal again.  Everything was fine.

Harry sighed and sat back in his seat a little, reaching for another caldron cake, he was really beginning to like those.

"Should we be getting into our robes though?" Harry asked, suddenly remembering the girl's parting comment.  "I thought that we were going to change when we got there."

"Oh no," Draco said.  "We change on the train, but I don't think it's really necessary to change just yet."  He glanced at his watch.  "We shouldn't be getting there for another couple of hours.  My father says that the train arrives just in time for dinner.  He's told me all about Hogwarts, you know."

Harry nodded vaguely.  It seemed Draco's father had told Draco all about everything and Harry felt a twinge of jealousy.  He'd always had to find things out for himself, because the Dursley's had never told him anything.  What might it be like to have a father there to tell you things?  Especially a father who knew so much about absolutely everything, the way Draco's father did.

Harry continued to eat his cake as Draco talked on about the school they were going to.  Or more accurately, what his father thought about the school they were going to.  Given half a chance it seemed Draco would never stop talking and Harry found he didn't mind listening.  But just at the moment he couldn't seem to keep his mind on what Draco was saying.  He finally put a half finished cake aside, his appetite having disappeared.  Every once in a while a longing so deep it hurt would come over him when he saw families together, parents who hugged their children and smiled at them.  He'd watched from the hall sometimes during Christmas dinner when he was sure no one would notice him, just to watch and see what a family was like without an outsider there to get in the way.

_He's told me all about Hogwarts, you know._

He wondered how often Draco sat and talked with his father.  Fairly often, from the sound of it.  And his father answered all of Draco's questions and told him everything he wanted to know.  Draco had mentioned his mother earlier.  She had given him his own owl as a going away gift and cried when he got on the train.  That together with the Vincent's talk about his siblings and even Gregory's remark about his sister now came together in Harry's mind to make him feel suddenly very isolated.  No one missed him.  Draco and Vincent and Gregory all knew what houses they were going to be in for crying out loud and Harry hadn't even known how to get onto the stupid platform.

"Umm..." Harry started, interrupting Draco's flow of speech.  "I know you said that it's still going to be a while before we get there and all, but I think I might go and get my uniform now anyway."

"Oh... well..." Draco responded, clearly surprised.  "If you really want to."

Harry nodded getting up and slipping quickly out of the car.  Suddenly, he'd just needed to be alone for a minute or two.  Not that that was possible in the corridor either.

Other students were headed up and down the train, back and forth between various cars.  Some, like the girl earlier, were already in their uniforms, while others were not.  The train was crowded and noisy but Harry managed to squeeze his way around various people, heading toward the bit at the end where his luggage was.

When he finally got there, he breathed a sigh of relief as he shut the door and leaned against the jolting wall of the coach for a moment, happy to be somewhere were someone else wasn't for a moment.  The little area had no windows and was therefore dimmer than the rest of the train.  Although it was larger than Harry's closet at the Dursley's the little luggage area had something of a closet like atmosphere to it that Harry couldn't help but find calming.  He frowned at that, reminding himself that most eleven-year-olds _didn't_ want to go hide in a closet every time they were uncertain.  And they certainly didn’t find being in a closet-like space calming.  Another thing to make him different in the one place where he was supposed to fit in.

A hoot caught his attention and Harry smiled as he went to Hedwig's cage.  She, at least, was familiar by now and therefore also a source of comfort.  And a normal source of comfort at that.  Pets were supposed to make you feel better.  He reached in to pet her only to be given a little nip for his trouble.

"I know, I know," Harry said.  "But it's not too much longer, okay?  My new friend, Draco, says that we should be there by about dinner time.  Then you can get out of there."  The owl ruffled her feathers indignantly, but allowed Harry to stroke her head.

Harry looked up at his trunk nervously.  The twins had told him that someone would come for the luggage once they were at the school, but he really wished he'd thought to take out his uniform before they'd lifted it up there.  He'd put his uniform at the very top of the trunk since he knew he'd need it tonight.  He just hadn’t realized that they would have to change on the train.

Harry tested the lowest shelf with his foot warily.  Well, they held all these trunks without and trouble and he wasn't that heavy.  Reaching up and taking a hold of the self on which his truck sat, Harry stepped up onto the self below and just managed to pull himself up next to his trunk.  There wasn't much in the way of head room and he had to bend over, but all Harry needed was to get the trunk open for a minute.  He fumbled with the catch, wishing that it faced outward instead of into the wall.  Finally he got it undone and managed to open the trunk a little in the confined area.  He was just pulling out his uniform when the door to the rest of the train opened and a familiar voice intruded.

"You _are_ sure you had it with you when you got on the train, right?"

Harry made a face.  Not that girl from earlier, that was all he needed.

"Yes, I'm sure I had him..." answered a worried sounding boy, but he was cut off by the girl.

"Hey," she called.  "What on earth are you doing up there?  I certainly hope that that is _your_ luggage!"

"Yes, it’s mine."  Harry managed to drag the last of his uniform out of the trunk and pulled his head out.  Letting the top drop closed again he looked down to where the girl with the fizzy hair stood looking up at him with a severe expression.  Next to her was a plump boy of their own age, who gazed up at Harry with evident surprise.  "I'm just getting my uniform out," Harry explained, feeling himself blush again as he grabbed his robes and climbed back down.

"You should have thought of getting them out before you put your trunk up there," she told him.  "You could have broken something climbing up on those selves like that."

"It wasn't dangerous," Harry said.  "I mean, even if I did fall it wouldn't have been that far."

"I'm not talking about bones."  She rolled her eyes as though Harry was incredibly dense.  "What if the shelf couldn't have taken your weight and it broke?  You'd get into a lot of trouble, I expect."

"They take the weight of the trunks," Harry protested, minding Draco's earlier rudeness to the girl less and less every moment.

She gave an exaggerated huff of annoyance.  "Really, people never think.  Why didn't you just use a spell or something?  _I've_ only learned a few so far myself.  It's my first year and there haven't been any witches in my family before me.  But all the spells I've tried so far have worked fine.  For example."  She pointed her wand directly at Harry's face and he leaned back in shock.  "Oculus reparo."  She lowered the wand again.  "There, you can take off the tape on your glasses now.  My father broke his glasses last week and I found that spell to fix them for him."

With great trepidation Harry took his glasses off and squinting a little picked the tape off the bit that went across his nose.  Dudley had broken it months before and Uncle Vernon refused to pay for it to be fixed.  The other boy leaned forward a little to see as Harry struggled with the tape.  Much to Harry's surprise he found that metal underneath was solid again.

"Told you," the girl said with great satisfaction as Harry looked up in surprise.  "My name's Hermione Granger and this is Neville..."  She paused.

"L.. Longbottom," Neville stuttered shyly.

"Right, Neville Longbottom," Hermione said.

"Oh!"  The boy said suddenly, staring at Harry as he put his glasses back on.  Harry jumped slightly.

"What?" he demanded, glancing behind him to see if something was there.

"You... you're... scar," the boy sputtered.

"Oh, yeah."  Harry blushed yet again, reaching up to smooth down his fringe again, wishing people would stop staring at him like that.

"You're Harry Potter, aren't you?" The girl demanded barely waiting for Harry's nod before continuing.  "I've read all about you."

"You have?" Harry asked in shock.

"Oh yes.  I got a few extra books for background reading and you were in Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"I was?"

"My goodness, you don't know?  I'd have found out all I could if it were me who defeated a dark wizard."

"But _I_ didn't do anything," Harry protested.  "At least, I don't think I did."  His face felt like it was on fire.  "I just wish everyone would stop making such a huge deal about it."

Neville nodded.  "Yeah," he said distractedly and then looked uncomfortable when Harry and Hermione both looked at him.  "I... I... I mean, if it were m-me I guess I'd kind of like people not t-to go on about it either."  He gave Harry a shy smile.

Harry relaxed and found himself smiling back, glad someone seemed to understand why he didn't like all of this attention.

"Well, I guess I can see that," Hermione said, not sounding as though she did.  "But still it's all so terribly interesting.  I can't imagine ignoring it.  Oh well.  We're still looking for Neville's toad, by the way.  You haven't seen it, have you?"

Harry shook his head.  "No, sorry."

"We'll just have to keep looking then.  You know, there are people on this train with pets that were _not_ on the list of allowed animals?  I actually saw a boy with a tarantula.  Can you believe that?  He was floating it down the middle of the hallway farther up the train, which I'm fairly sure he shouldn't have been doing anyway.  Did you bring a pet?" she asked Harry suddenly.

"Umm... yeah."  Harry turned around and pointed proudly to Hedwig.  "She's mine."

"Oh, isn't she lovely," Hermione said, looking at the snowy owl with appreciation.  "I've read that owls are very useful for carrying your mail and everything.  I didn't bring a pet this time.  I thought I'd get used to the school first and maybe get one later.  What's her name and did you get her at Eeylops Owl Emporium or Magical Menagerie?  I've read that they're the best places to buy owls."

"Her name's Hedwig."  Harry couldn't help but stand up just a little taller.  Hedwig _was_ a beautiful owl and she'd been the first thing that Harry had ever had that was really _his_.  "But I'm not sure where she came from.  She was a birthday present.  What... What's your toad called?" he asked turning to Neville shyly.

"Trevor," Neville answered, seeming to be equally shy.  "I got him from my gran last Christmas.  He's never run away like this before though."  He sounded genuinely worried.

For a moment, Harry thought about asking Neville if he wanted to come and sit with him when he'd found Trevor.  Then changed his mind.  He didn't know how Draco and Vincent would react to his inviting Neville to sit with them.  Besides, it would be rude to ask him and not Hermione and Harry _did not_ want to have her sitting with them.

"Well, I hope you find him soon."

"Thanks," Neville said.

"Oh, I'm sure we will," Hermione interjected and Harry wondered why she'd taken it upon herself to help Neville look for his toad.  "I mean, the train isn't that big and it has to be on it somewhere."

"Well, good luck. I... I guess I'll see you at school sometime," he said to Neville.

Neville smiled again.  "Umm... Thanks.  I... I'll see you around school."

Harry left them to the continuing search for Trevor the toad.  Even before the door to the luggage area closed he could hear Hermione telling Neville to look behind those trunks over there while she...  Harry made a face.  She would get on his nerves _very_ fast.  He couldn't think of anyone more bossy.

* * * 

The sun had set by the time the train finally slowed to a halt at a train station that was little more than a single platform near a small village.  The train practically erupted into motion as they pulled in, every compartment door opening at once to admit the students into the far too narrow hall way.  Harry's butterflies had returned with a vengeance as he, Draco, Vincent, and Gregory made their way through the crowd and out onto the platform which wasn't much better.  Most of the students wore uniforms with house crests on the robes and ties in their house colours.  Only a few others wore the unmarked robes and plain Hogwarts ties that he and his friends wore.

He was about to ask Draco if he knew what they were to do now when a voice rose over the noise.  "Firs' years!  Firs' years over here!"

Harry turned quickly and was delighted to see Hagrid looming over the crowd of students at one end of the platform.  “Firs’ year!” he called out.  “I need all the firs’ years over here!”


End file.
